I Now Pronounce You Doctor and Wife
by Poketheveil
Summary: All the Doctor wanted to do was get to Cardiff to refuel but the TARDIS seemed to disagree, landing on another planet. Trying to find a way to help start a famous revolution, he ends up with a problem he never expected to have....


Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who; if I did I would be the Doctor's companion! As if that surprises anyone…..

* * *

"Father, I told you! I don't want –"

"You have brought this on yourself! Besides, it's time you married so we know who our next king will be."

Not many could miss the heated argument going on between father and daughter in the castle of Delcenara, home of the royal family of the planet Enuin. It was growing quite loud, and several of the servants were blatantly watching it now.

"But there aren't any qualified candidates, Father. What are you going to do about that?"

The King frothed silently, his face turning red as he thought angrily. "We know what you did," he finally burst out, a few stray flecks of spittle trying to attack the young woman's face; she scrunched up her nose in disgust as they were successful. "And thus I have decided to hang the qualifications for marriage to the Quintessence!" What little movement there had been left by the servants rushing about, at least pretending to do their jobs, stopped at the King's words. He fidgeted slightly, but quickly got over his slight discomfort. "The next man that walks through those doors shall be our future king, and who you will marry – today!"

* * *

The Doctor threw down his quiver and bow cheerfully as he entered the TARDIS. "Well, that certainly could have been messier," he commented to Martha, who raised an eyebrow at him. "You think that wasn't messy enough?" she demanded, pointing back at the door with her thumb. The Doctor grinned from the console, shrugging, as he did another variation of pressing buttons, pulling levers, and hitting random parts of the console with a hammer. He figured it was time for another fill up at the rift in Cardiff, so charted – if that's what it could be called – a course there.

However, when the TARDIS landed a bit more smoothly than usual, the Doctor realized they weren't quite where he had intended to put them. "Where are we this time?" Martha asked, looking suspicious of their landing. The Doctor tapped on the screen close by, pulling out his glasses to examine what came up on it. "We're…on Enuin. And before the Revolution of Abnegation! Always wanted to see that!" he exclaimed excitedly, then looked more closely at the date. "Wait a minute…the Revolution starts today. Could be a bit dangerous…perhaps I ought to go out to take a look at what's happening before you come along." Martha, although slightly annoyed, agreed to wait in the TARDIS, mostly because she wanted to wash the lizard guts off. (_How did he manage not to get any of that stuff on him?_) With a grin, the Doctor set off.

As the Doctor walked through the bustling city Delcenara, he looked particularly at how the people were acting. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for a city, which seemed odd for one about to be thrown into a Revolution; granted, the Revolution of Abnegation hadn't been too bloody, but it hadn't been perfectly peaceful like this, either. At least now he knew why the TARDIS had brought him here – it seemed a Revolution needed a little nudge into starting, even though the Doctor wasn't sure how exactly he was supposed to do this. To say that he was puzzled wouldn't have been incorrect. The Revolution should have been boiling in the minds of several, mostly in one woman's in particular. 

He paused for a moment in his stroll down the road, his attention caught by the rather spectacular castle just ahead. Figuring that a castle would be as good a place to start trying to solve this puzzle as any, he continued on down the road.

* * *

She tapped her foot nervously, unable to sit still but not willing to pace again.

It had been a couple hours since her father had announced how the next king would be chosen, but so far no man had entered through the great oaken doors of the castle. Maybe she could seal them somehow to keep up the trend….

No sooner had she thought it – and she cursed herself for jinxing her luck – did the doors open and a man step through. The man quickly noticed that everyone in the room was staring at him before he was grabbed by two guards. She felt a pang of guilt, because it was her fault he was in this position, after all. "Sorry, was I not allowed in here?" asked the man curiously, although he seemed to grasp that something was going to happen to him. "Oh, no, no, dear sir! We're quite pleased you did come in," boomed her father's delighted voice. "Well, then, you can let me go now…" the man said genially, looking at the guards and then back at the King. "Not just yet, sir. You have to get ready." She sighed, closing her eyes for the inevitable question. "Get ready for what?" She knew her father was grinning from ear to ear, something that he meant to be kindly looking but always ended up looking quite scary. "For your wedding, of course." The King turned to her guards. "Take her up to her room so she, too, can get ready. It begins in two hours."

The last thing she heard from the unfortunate man before she was led away was an incredulous exclamation of, "What?!"

* * *

This really couldn't be happening. Nothing he had read about the Enuinians had ever said anything about a royal wedding happening on the day the Revolution started. The Doctor paced about the small room he had been forced into to change into ornate looking robes. Seeing as he planned on escaping at some point during the ceremony, he had flat out refused to change into them; the King seemed unbothered by this, letting him stay in his pinstripe suit.

The King was something else, entirely. His manner was much too happy bordering on outright insane. The young woman that he was supposed to be marrying looked quite familiar, but no matter how much the Doctor thought, he could not pinpoint where he had seen her before.

* * *

As the time ticked ever nearer to the wedding, Princess Saerlaith began to fear she would not be able to get out of it. It wasn't that she was completely against marriage; it would be fine if she actually knew who she was getting married to (and had at least started to fall in love with him). However, that seemed a petty thing compared to what would occur _after_ her wedding.

It hadn't taken Saerlaith too many years to figure out that the society and tradition on Enuin was rather harsh, and that was putting it mildly. As she had been confined to the upper floors of the castle, she had spent most of her life reading in the vast library; her father had thought nothing of this, and when he realized what a danger that could impose on his future plans, it had already been too late. The King had been a fool not to think that in all of the thousands of books that rested on the many shelves in the library not one would tell of traditions. Even those that had only been able to have been performed once in all of Enuin's history – until now.

Saerlaith remembered it clearly: she had been barely thirteen, as happy as one could be when confined to the inside of a castle for all of one's life. Halfway through a history book, her heart had jumped when she read the cursed words at the bottom of the aging page.

_'The King vowed no woman would ever again become the main ruler of Enuin. Thus he wrote it law that every firstborn female heir of the royal family, once of a proper age to be wed would do so; her husband would be King and she would be put to death right after. His daughter Orlaith was shortly after wed and executed. However, she was the first and last, as of yet, female heir to the throne.'_

Saerlaith had known then why she was never allowed out; her father had not wanted her to find out about her future, in hopes of no complications. But, being rather ignorant, he had never once given a thought to the fact that his daughter would probably find out faster by being confined then by being let outside the castle walls.

This was not the only part of Enuin society that put females in general at a rather large disadvantage; one that could very well be deadly. Although the people had given up practicing magic ages ago – thanks to the evil Sorceress Talaitha and her plan to take over Enuin and the rest of the Universe – one bit of it still remained; it was a spell placed upon a couple when they were married. Although harmless to the male, the female had to be careful: if she spent more than two months apart from her husband, she would die. Needless to say, Enuin culture was a very male-domineering one.

Saerlaith sighed heavily, cursing the male powers that had thought up the traditions. Even if she did escape her execution, if she didn't do so before she was married she'd die in two months anyway. Either way, her future was looking very grim.

A knock sounded at her door before it was opened, admitting two royal guards. "It's time, Milady," one of them announced; the other nodded.

Saerlaith rose from her seat, allowing the guards to lead her, in her flowing blue robes, to her wedding…and her death.

* * *

A/N: Well, things have started out rather grim, haven't they? But don't fret; the Doctor still has some tricks up his sleeve. (Hah! Who would fret with the Doctor around?) Any thoughts or some healthy constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, so please review!

Also, Saerlaith is pronounced Ser-la, just to help curb any confusion that may have sprung up from it.

Poketheveil


End file.
